


Five Years

by bluelionsbish



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Death, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Spoilers, M/M, Mentioned Black Eagles Students (Fire Emblem), Mentioned Blue Lions Students (Fire Emblem), Mentioned Golden Deer Students (Fire Emblem), Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romance, i will go down with that ship, implied byleth x claude, super old drabble but posting it anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 12:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21338104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelionsbish/pseuds/bluelionsbish
Summary: Byleth could do nothing to stop it--not with Sothis gone, not when the familiar thrum of a divine pulse was lost within him.He could donothing. Nothing but watch them die.
Relationships: Claude von Riegan & Original Character(s), Claude von Riegan/Original Male Character(s), Claude von Riegan/You, My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Five Years

**Author's Note:**

> probably worth mentioning i wrote this before i had finished the golden deer route, and hadn't played any others. it was an old drabble i posted on wattpad, i was just getting back into writing. it's horrible and i'm glad to see that my writing has improved in my other fics LMAO. no beta we die like glenn.

On the battlefield, Byleth was a force of nature. A god to be reckoned with. And this god, he was angry.

_Oh so angry_, as he looked at his students—his _friends_, warring amongst themselves like stupid children. What the hell had happened in the five years he had been gone?

His usual calm mask slipped. Fear and betrayal battled within him as he watched his closest companions try to spill the others' blood. In that split second, when rage filled him to the point of Sothis recoiling, the world stilled; everything was silent, muted in grey.

Byleth watched as his students exhausted themselves, for they were the only ones unchecked by time. Though everyone else had stopped, they moved on. Ignorant to the world around them as they fought.

He walked amongst the fallen soldiers; Faerghus, Adrestian, and Leicester alike, gore upon his boots. Claude, the most adept of the three, started to slow down, realizing something was amiss. The boy, although Byleth could see he was more of a man now, glanced up. There was something akin to a surprised fear in his face.

"Teach?" With a familiarity in his voice that nearly made Byleth's steps falter, the professor reached out, hand on Claude's shoulder, and promptly shoved him to the ground.

"Stay down," there was no room for argument. So, in the midst of dead bodies and broken dreams, Claude sat.

Byleth went for Dimitri next. He could see that there was nothing left of the once gentle child he had grown to care about. The man was wild and unhinged, roaring as if he were an animal--his blond locks like a mane. The years had not been kind, it seemed, as Byleth took in the patch covering his eye.  
There was no recognition in Dimitri's gaze, not an ounce, as Byleth cut in between his strikes and grabbed his throat. A single blow to the chest had the excommunicated prince gasping for breath on the ground, struggling to rise.  
At this, Edelgard paused. She drank in the glorious sight of her enemies beneath her feet, but a small part of her heart still ached looking down upon them. Friends...they had all been friends, once.

Her gaze shifted.

She looked at the mercenary who had once saved her all those years ago. Time had also changed him. Despite her aspirations, she had never wanted to make an enemy of her professor. In another lifetime, she would have walked with him hand-in-hand. She lowered her axe.

"What are you doing?" Byleth admonished, eyes flashing a brilliant hue while his expression remained unmarred.  
"Why are you warring amongst each other?" Byleth couldn't help but soften his voice—if he had a heart, it would be in the process of breaking, "We can still achieve that dream of peace, if you would all just stop _fighting_."

The students seemed to pause for a moment.  
But then time resumed.

The screams of their men and the clang of armour echoing all at once overwhelmed them. They watched as the bloody play they had orchestrated reached a crescendo. It was a sea of red, yellow, and blue. A sea of crimson and black, as fires raged across the mountain range, swallowing humans whole. It was a complete and utter chaos.

Dimitri was back on his feet, eyes glassy and rimmed as he bent for his lance. Claude grabbed his bow, and Edelgard her axe. The three stood at odds with each other. Byleth merely stepped back in a horrified disbelief, a plea of "_don't do this, don't make me choose, don't make me watch_," leaving his lips.

He would have quelled the first signs of discord within his students, had he known this war would have been their answer.

Edelgard lunged first. Behind her strike was her dream of peace, her dream of one unified, prosperous kingdom.

Dimitri went on defence, lance parrying her axe. Behind his blow was his guilt. Guilt for being unable to defend those he cared about, for allowing the weak to be crushed beneath the strong.

Claude stood some distance away from the others, and glanced at his professor. He pursed his lips in thought, but did not open his mouth. Turning away, his eyes became hard.  
His mind was made up.

Byleth blinked once, twice, as Claude notched his bow. He pulled until the string was taut, aimed, and let loose. He laid on the tip of his arrow all of his hopes for a brighter future, his desire and vision for which a world where everyone could _truly_ belong, existed.

It was a perfect shot; Claude never missed.

Blood erupted, painting his face in a crimson shower.

Dimitri went down first, impaled by Edelgard's axe.

Then Edelgard collapsed, neck pierced by Claude's arrow.

Claude fell to his knees, clutching his side, where Dimitri's lance had cut him.

And Byleth could do nothing to stop it—not with Sothis gone, not when the familiar thrum of a divine pulse was lost within him. He could do nothing but watch them die.

There was a sharp feeling in Byleth's chest as he saw the man sink lower to the ground. He knelt next to Claude—wrapped his arms around his student's shoulders and pulled him close, until tired eyes could look into his own.

All Byleth could see, gazing at Claude's warm expression, was a boy's face. Not a man or a leader—only a boy. A boy who had a taste for mischief and a charming laugh. A boy who had startling green eyes and a lazy smile. ...Just a boy with burdens too big for his shoulders, fears too large for his youth, and dreams that were near impossible to come to light.  
As a professor, Byleth had failed. As a _friend_, he had failed. In every single sense of the word.  
With little he could do for Claude, he simply held him.  
"Missed you, Teach," Claude mumbled into the crook of his professor's neck, "wasn't quite expecting things to get this messy." He laughed. Byleth had missed his laugh.  
He pulled Claude closer still, arms wet with blood. Byleth closed his eyes. Claude didn't seem to have the strength to speak anymore when Byleth whispered an _I'm sorry_.

Moments became hours as Byleth sat there, holding his little deer. He sat as he noticed Hilda trudging towards him, as Raphael took Claude gingerly from his arms.  
Mercedes looked over Dimitri, shook her head. Felix went to collect him.  
Linhardt bent down and closed Edelgard's unseeing eyes.

The heavens opened up and soaked the fields with a fresh rain, washing away the maroon stains. Byleth let it chill him to the bone, numbing him from the prospects of a future without his beloved students. Without Claude.  
Sothis, awake once more, nudged him gently, spurred him into action. She watched as her vessel stood on heavy feet, with an equally heavy heart. He had been too late, _too late_, to save any of them.  
"There is nothing that can be done, I cannot turn back time. Look forward now, there are others that need you still."

Byleth breathed in.  
Leonie appeared beside him.

"We can't afford to lose hope now," she chided, although her eyes were wet with grief and her face was tight as she spoke, "I'm glad you're here, we needed you." She hardly spared him a glance as she picked her way through a field of disfigured bodies. Leonie was moving on quickly; the only way one could afford to cope in times of war.  
Byleth breathed out. She was right. The war had yet to end. The battle may have swayed the outcome of it all towards Alliance hands, but the church still needed to be dealt with. New leaders needed to be appointed. Those that remained needed to hold onto whatever semblance of hope they had left, while they could.  
He looked up at the sky. A rosy-red horizon greeted him, a beautiful dawn in the wake of tragedy. Solemn, Byleth lowered his head in the midst of the morning sun and made a vow.

On his shoulders he would carry their dreams. Their visions, that at first glance seemed different but were yet so sadly alike, Byleth would see them through. He would protect his students; protect their dreams, both old dreams and the dreams yet to come, this time.

He could taste the peace upon his lips.

It was time to usher in a new era.


End file.
